


Too Late From the Start

by hereforwords



Series: Different Skin, Same Smile [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Stabbing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, basically what would happen if Will went from 90 percent angry and 10 percent horny to a solid 50 50, because what’s love without it, branches off mid season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereforwords/pseuds/hereforwords
Summary: Hannibal’s lips parted just slightly, the confusion hiding in his eyes enough to bring a fresh smile to Will’s face.“You still don’t see it,” Will said softly, letting himself drink in the sight before him, “do you?”
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Different Skin, Same Smile [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794781
Comments: 23
Kudos: 183





	Too Late From the Start

**Author's Note:**

> one of my endless season 2 rewatches turned into me finally writing this, my slightly tweaked take on the ever popular season 2 au because there are never enough season 2 au’s
> 
> take a shot every time i say season 2 au

Realizing Hannibal wanted him beyond a desire to see him awash with blood, but in a physical, carnal way somehow managed to take Will by surprise. There wasn't anything special about his moment of realization, he just shifted in his seat across from Hannibal as he had so many times before, head leaning back with his neck stretched out on display. The only difference was that he was watching Hannibal now, really watching, and Will couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before.

To anyone else it would have been nothing, just a slight shift on Hannibal's face, they might not have even noticed the change at all. Will noticed. Suddenly it was all Will could notice and as ridiculous a thought as it was after everything he knew about him now, it almost felt like he was looking at Hannibal for the first time. 

"Will?" Hannibal asked after a moment, obviously picking up on the shift in his mood. Will just raised an eyebrow, mind hardly there at all anymore.

It seemed so obvious now, to the point Will was sure someone else would have had to have noticed, Hannibal always there by his side, just this side of too close but never close enough to warrant having a conversation about it. A hand against him, just above the small of his back to avoid suspicion. Will had to wonder how many times Hannibal had smelled him and he'd failed to realize.

"Where have your thoughts taken you now?" 

Will straighten slightly in his seat, licking his lips and watching Hannibal track the motion with his eyes. "It's strange, when you have seen something so many times and then suddenly something shifts, and it's like you're looking for the first time."

Hannibal crossed his legs, bringing his hands to rest on one knee. "What are you seeing now Will?" 

Will let a small, bitter smile pull at his mouth. "You're the only one here for me to see."

Hannibal offered him his own smile. "And what is it you think you've discovered?"

For a moment Will imagined just telling him, saying the words and watching the realization play out across his face. Would Hannibal's expression turn hard or soft? Would denial pass his lips or would he give in to what were apparently his long held desires, close the distance between them and touch Will, really touch him, beyond a half of a caress that lived behind his eyes. 

Will didn't say a word, shaking his head as he stood from the chair. He walked past Hannibal to the ladder against the wall, letting his hand curve around one of the bars. "I don't think you want to hear it."

"Surely you know you can tell me anything."

Will laughed before he could stop himself. Glancing over his shoulder Will saw that Hannibal had risen from his seat as well, now standing just a pace behind him. He looked as perfectly pressed as always, not a hair out of place, hands clasped in front of him with a pleasantly blank expression on his face. Will hated that expression more than anything. He shook his head again. 

"Will," Hannibal began, taking another step towards him, close enough now that he could reach out and touch. "Speak your mind."

"Will you?" Will asked before he could bite back the question, already worried it gave too much away.

Hannibal tilted his head to the side. "What do you imagine I have to say?"

Always a non answer, another evasion, twisted words that were designed only to take from the other, never revealing himself. If Hannibal had been talking to anyone besides Will, or even to himself from another time it would have worked. It had worked, so well that Will still shook from the rage at it all when he let himself dwell for too long. 

"Why don't you tell me and we'll compare notes."

Hannibal shook his head, giving Will something close to a fond look. "I had hoped we were past this."

It took a moment for Will to catch up and then he was smiling again, realizing they were having two separate conversations all together. It was almost fitting. "We are."

His words finally gave Hannibal pause, the subtle shifting of his expression giving him away. He really had no idea. "I can't imagine anything else you would wish to hear me say."

For a moment Will wondered if Hannibal himself was unaware of his feelings before quickly brushing the thought to the side. If there was anyone who was fully aware of themselves, of what they felt and why, it was Hannibal. Which only left the fact that he didn't want Will to know, at least not yet. He might not have any intention of ever saying the words. Another thing he had decided to keep from him, another bit of himself he felt Will didn't deserve to see, at least not yet. The anger that was a close to constant part of him now burned hot and cold against his chest.

"No," he said slowly, giving Hannibal the eye contact he knew he craved, "I'm sure you can't."

"Will—"

"How is Alana?" Will asked, cutting him off. 

"Fine," Hannibal said after a moment, "Why do you ask?"

Will didn't know why until the question was suddenly in the forefront of his mind. "It's not as if I would know, I'm not exactly her favorite person anymore. She worries about you, being here with me."

"She believes you wish me harm."

If only she knew. It was hard to imagine she could even begin to comprehend the kind of harm the man she was with was capable of, and it was Will she was worried about. It made him want to laugh in the worst way. "Why are you with her?"

"I enjoy Alana's company," Hannibal said softly, doing nothing to disguise the way he was trying to pick apart Will's expression with his eyes. 

"Do you?" Will asked, unable to stop himself. 

"Does that surprise you?"

"It would if you were being honest." 

Hannibal looked genuinely amused now, that look in his eye that on anyone else Will would have described as warmth. He pushed himself away from the ladder, passing by Hannibal closer than necessary just to watch him subtly inhale as he did. 

"I enjoy her company as much as anyone's."

Will didn't turn as he spoke, knowing his face would give him away. "Even mine?"

A moment passed and then Hannibal was there behind him again, his warm hand closing over Will's shoulder just as he'd thought it would. "You must know by now that you are completely other from everyone else in my life."

Will glanced at the hand on his shoulder before looking back at Hannibal. "How other do I have to be before you'll let me see you?"

Hannibal licked his lips and Will tracked the motion with his eyes, becoming a mirror image to the man before him only moments before. Will wasn't even sure why he was pushing this anymore. This wasn't what he should be pressing Hannibal to say, but now that the idea was there he couldn't seem to push it back. Hannibal had always been outside of other people, seemingly removed from the yearnings of everyday life. Being wanted by him made Will feel powerful in a way he desperately knew he should ignore but couldn't seem to move his brain past. 

"I'm more honest with you than anyone." Hannibal dropped his hand and stepped around and in front of Will, standing just this side of too close. 

"And yet you still keep so much of yourself hidden away."

For what had to be the first time Hannibal broke eye contact with him first, such a small movement threatening to shatter Will in two. Hannibal never looked away from him first, never denied himself the chance to twist into something Will inevitably left exposed there for him to find. The idea that he was worried about what Will would see in him now made this real in a way Will didn't know how to wrap his head around. 

This was something more than want, bigger than a word as simple as desire. 

"Hannibal," Will said softly, the name feeling almost foreign in his mouth it had been so long since he had last let himself say it, let alone to the man himself. 

Hannibal was looking at him again in an instant, eyes almost damp, something so open on his face that Will felt his chest slowly begin to crush in. He'd stopped letting himself imagine someone looking at him that way such a long time ago, and the idea that someone who really knew him ever would had never been more than a fantasy. That it was Hannibal looking at him that way now, Hannibal, who knew him more intimately than anyone ever had left Will shaken in a way he never couldn't have prepared himself for. 

All he had ever really wanted was to be known, to be honestly seen and accepted by someone, and now Will was actively working to destroy the only person who ever would. Distantly Will felt his hands begin to shake, terrified to give in and reach out with no idea if it would be a claw or a caress, not knowing which he ached for more anymore, if he would ever be able to know at all.

"Sorry," Will said softly, finally finding himself and looking down and away, "I don't know where my head's at today."

"More bad dreams?" 

Will's dreams were swirls of black and red, horned shadows that never held shape when he turned. It was a constant chase with no end, only darkness and whispers on the air that he could never make take shape in his mind when he woke. But he slept most of the night now, or as much as he'd ever managed to in his adult life. "I've been sleeping," Will finally said, too exhausted to care how obviously he was sidestepping the question. 

Hannibal hummed softly and that was it, the silence slowly stretching between them until Will felt close to choking on it, but he still didn't say a word. He wasn't the one with something to confess. 

He wasn't.

*

Will knew he should be focusing on the blood on his hands, on what he had done to get it there, but all he could see was Hannibal, his hands against his own, the way the blood smeared against his skin until you couldn't tell whose hands it had been on first. It looked right in a way that twisted up his insides, like they were always meant to end up here, together and bound in blood. Hannibal's touch was so soft, so painfully delicate in the way that he cradled his hands, like Will was the most precious thing in the world to him. 

You never would have guessed Hannibal was the same man who had essentially flipped a coin in regards to his life, time and time again. 

Pride sat in his gut like a stone, twisted and awful, refusing to be brushed aside. He knew this was exactly what Hannibal had wanted. Will didn't know what he wanted anymore from one breath to the next, like his sense of self was as fleeting as the wind. Hannibal finally moved their hands into the waiting pan of warm salted water, squeezing his hands ever so slightly before he finally let them go.

Will didn't make the conscious decision to do so, but his hands still reached out to hold Hannibal's again all the same, pulling them slowly back into the pink tinted water with his own. After a breath he forced his eyes up and found Hannibal's gaze waiting for him. 

"Are you pleased?" Will asked in a low voice. "This is close to everything you wanted."

"I am," Hannibal said after a moment, his eyes drifting back down to their submerged hands, "What do you believe is missing?"

"You tell me." Will dropped Hannibal's hands then and pulled his own from the water, flexing them to test the pain. 

Hannibal reached out for him again, first to dry his hands and then with a jarring kind of gentleness began to rub ointment into his wounds. The longer Will watched the worse he felt, each breath he took like a fresh blow against his already bruised ribs. More than anything he just wanted this to be over, for the endless tightrope to finally snap and leave them broken on the floor, cut up and exposed with no hope of putting them back together again. 

"Don't go inside Will," Hannibal said softly, paying particular attention to a cut along the inseam of his thumb. "You'll want to retreat, you'll want it as we want to jump from balconies, as the glint of the rails tempts us when we hear the approaching train."

All Will could hear was everything Hannibal wasn't saying, how desperate he was for Will to be here with him in every way there was to be. Even with no idea what he would say in response all Will wanted was to hear the words, for Hannibal to finally be honest now that the veil had been torn from his eyes. 

"Stay with me."

Will's hands jerked in Hannibal's, unable to hold back his sharp inhale, eyes darting up to the endlessly dark looking back at him and finding nothing but longing waiting for him.

"Where else am I going to go?" Will said quietly, his voice sounding weak and brittle in his ears. 

"You have everywhere to go. As long—"

"I'm not going anywhere," Will said, cutting Hannibal off and letting himself enjoy the small moment of rudeness. "I'm right here with you, aren't I?"

Hannibal didn't say anything, instead looking away as he pulled out a roll of gauze to begin wrapping Will's hands. Will let himself have a moment to breathe, secure in the knowledge that no one was watching him, that for once Hannibal wasn't watching. 

"When you killed Randall, did you fantasize you were killing me?"

In another life Will could have said yes, in a life where his rage wasn't pressed down by the truth behind Hannibal's eyes. More than anything Will wanted it to still be true, but it just wasn't. "No," Will managed to push out, "I didn't."

A frown pulled at the corners of Hannibal's mouth, so subtle it was hardly there at all. His disappointment sat like a warm meal in Will's gut. 

"What was waiting in your mind's eye then, when your hands felt the last of his life slipping away?" 

"Nothing," Will said softly, the words hardly anything more than a whisper. "I didn't go anywhere, the swirl of someone else's desires never came. It was just me. Just my hands and his skin."

Hannibal was visibly controlling his breathing now, moving to drop Will's hands again now that he was finished wrapping them. Will didn't let him, closing his hand around Hannibal's wrist. He felt warm and alive, solid and real, undeniable in a way no one else had ever been. Will tightened his grip, willing his desire to reach him from touch alone, a touch that was hardly a touch at all.

Will couldn't help a smile, remembering all the times he had sworn the next touch between them would be in death, when he had only had bars for company. "I felt undeniably alive when I killed him, it was close to..."

Perfect. It had been close to perfect. It was a truth he couldn't deny anymore, if only to himself. 

"What was missing?" 

"You," Will let slip out, not realize how exposed the word would make him feel until he was saying it, like Hannibal could see everything, every part of him open and on display. But now that he had started the words just wouldn't stop. "I didn't fantasize about you beneath my hands, it was your hands alongside mine, you beside me, both of us together, breathing in the last moments of his life."

Will had let his eyes slip down to their hands as he spoke, but the way Hannibal said his name then forced his gaze back up. And then he couldn't breathe. All he could see was Hannibal.

"Never, in all of the dreams and plans and fantasies of my life, could I ever anticipated you."

Will waited, sure that this would finally be it, that the words he longed to hear would finally pass Hannibal's lips, but they didn't come. Even now, stripped more bare than he'd ever been, even now Hannibal didn't say them. 

Distantly Will heard Hannibal speak, words of debts and repayment, but all he could hear was everything Hannibal still held back. Even after everything he had already given, even now here together, held by death and blood, even now it still wasn't enough.

Maybe it never would be.

*

Will hadn't been fully prepared for the flash of possessive rage he felt, seeing Hannibal and Alana together like this. He'd known she would be here when he had accepted Hannibal's invitation to dinner, but the idea of something in his mind's eye and seeing it play out before him were two very different things. He wasn't even sure who the bigger fool here was, Alana or himself. 

Hannibal was describing the dish with his usual flourish but Will hardly listened, eyes stuck on the warmth in Alana's eyes as she watched Hannibal. He could only imagine what she would see, if she looked into his own when he truly looked at Hannibal. 

The wine was poured and then Hannibal sat, an expectant look on his face when their eyes met, but Will had no real desire to say anything. Instead he raised his brow in mock appreciation as he took a drink, letting his gaze move from Hannibal to Alana with purpose. Nothing showed on Hannibal's face but Will could feel his displeasure in the air between them and hid his grin along the rim of his glass. 

"I had an... interesting conversation with Freddie," Alana said after a moment, her eyes darting between them both.

Hannibal made a noise of inquiry before taking his first bite.

"It seems that she has now decided that neither of you are the killer she is writing about, but together you might be."

"You must be quite the bland interview subject," Hannibal said with amusement clear in his voice, eyes on Will as he spoke. "Freddie is already resorting to fiction."

"Facts have never mattered to her before, she doesn't have any boundaries."

"Freddie isn't the only one without boundaries, your relationship doesn't seem to know many," Alana said as she looked between them. "Patient and therapist. Friend and enemy."

Will fought with everything he had to keep the excitement from his eyes, the overwhelming desire he had to cut in and add a few other definitions to her list. It didn't even begin to scratch the surface of what they were to each other. 

"Crossing boundaries is different than violating them." Hannibal's face was perfectly in place, not even the faintest hint of a twitch to give him away. 

Despite himself Will felt something close to enchanted at the sight, the picture he painted so close to perfect Will couldn't help but find it captivating. The knowledge that he was the only one that could see it spread a warmth across his chest that had nothing to do with the glass of wine he had already drained. 

"Boundaries are always subject to negotiation. It's just hard to know where you are with each other."

There it was. It wasn't just simple fear for Hannibal she felt when she saw them together. Despite her blindness she saw it on some level, enough to feel the need to voice her anxieties in her own subtle way. 

She was right of course. She really had no idea what they were to each other.

"I can't speak for Doctor Lecter, but I know perfectly well where we stand with one another." Will let a small smile pull at his lips, eyes on the tightening at the corners of Alana's mouth. "Shouldn't that be enough?"

"Do you doubt that Hannibal does as well?" 

It took everything Will had not to let the grin lurking in his chest pull across his face. "His boundaries are harder to find than my own."

"Hannibal?" Alana asked, turning her eyes over to the man. 

"Will has yet to overstep," Hannibal said after a moment. 

Will could feel his gaze burning into the side of his head but didn't give him the satisfaction of turning his head, he just kept watching Alana, in better humor than he had any right to be. 

"Your boundaries must be as broad as Will's," Alana said, the look in her eyes like she thought it was some great dig at Will's expense, "for him to not have crossed them yet, after everything."

"There's always tomorrow." Will let the grin finally pull across his lips, turning and giving Hannibal the eye contact he knew he craved. That look was back in his eyes now, the one that was only for Will, the one he knew Alana had no hope of understanding. 

Alana opened her mouth just as Hannibal laid his hand over hers on the table, a slight shake of his head bringing her mouth back to a close. Will finally took his first bite of the meal, his mood too good not to savor the flavor. 

"This is delicious."

Hannibal gave him a small nod, and the conversation slipped into the mundane as they ate. 

Will knew Alana couldn't see it lurking behind his eyes, the question Hannibal would never ask with her at the table with them, but Will saw it. If Hannibal had been anyone else he would have practically been vibrating in his seat with the need to say it. Once their plates were cleared Alana excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Will and Hannibal alone for the first time. 

They both sat in silence, listening to the sound of her steps fading away.

"Do you doubt me Will?" Hannibal reached out for the bottle of wine, refilling both of their glasses.

"Doubt? Doubt isn't the word I would use."

"What word would it be then?"

Will knew there wasn't a word for what sat in his chest, the clawing need that refused to rest each time he looked at him. "Undecided," Will settled on, knowing how it would grate at him. "This meal is enough to prove it."

Hannibal's lips parted just slightly, the confusion hiding in his eyes enough to bring a fresh smile to Will's face.

"You still don't see it," Will said softly, letting himself drink in the sight before him, "do you?"

"Will—" Hannibal began only to stop at the sound of Alana's heels against the floor, coming back to join them.

Pushing himself up from the table Will turned to look at Hannibal one more time, relishing the need he could see hidden there, the request for him to remain painted across every angle of his face. "I'm going home."

Alana was there just at the edge of his vision now, paused in the doorway watching. Will let his hand come to rest on top of Hannibal's where it sat on the table, let his voice fall into something soft and private, obviously only for them. "Think about what I said."

Pulling his hand away Will looked back at Alana, giving her a nod with no smile before walking past. The entire way to the door Will didn't hear them say a word, and he smiled the entire time. 

*

There was a knock at the door followed quickly by barking dogs, pulling Will up from the bed. 

Will made his way across the room on unsteady legs, arm half asleep from his position he'd been laying in. Goosebumps broke out along the tops of his thighs, now exposed to the chill in the air. Will pulled open the door with the sigh, ready to pull something halfway pleasant onto his face, and then he wasn't thinking of anything at all.

Hannibal stood on his doorstep, his hair plastered to his head by the rain. He wasn't even wearing an overcoat.

"Hannibal," Will breathed out, his arm already stretched out to grab him and pull him inside. He had to bite back a gasp when he met no resistance, Hannibal something close to pliant as he let himself be pulled inside. Will shut the door harder than necessary, biting the inside of his cheek, fighting against the old urge to start reciting his name and location. 

"I'll get you a towel," Will said in a rush, dropping his hand and turning to walk away before a hand close around his wrist. 

Will turned just as he was pushed back against the wall, the air leaving him all at once as Hannibal leaned in as close as he ever had, until Will could hardly see him at all beyond a shadow, just smoke and breath against his mouth. 

"There is no indecision, because there was never a choice to be made." Hannibal sounded like he never had before, with nothing held back, the emotion raw and obvious in each word he said. "From the first moment I saw you, and only growing in intensity with each moment that has passed between us since, I have only ever desired one outcome."

There was a slight flush to Hannibal's skin, from the rain or his own words Will couldn't know. It was all he could do to stand there and keep breathing. Hannibal brought a hand up to cradle his face then, taking that last step left between them until they were flush against one another. His touch brought both cold and warmth, his skin damp from the rain but threatening to burn Will through with every touch, how real it was, honest, exactly how he'd known Hannibal had craved to touch him.

All Will wanted to do was give in, but they were so close. He was so close. Just a few more words and he could have it. Will could practically taste it, he wanted it so badly.

"I've denied- I've denied close to everything I've ever felt when I look at you." Each word felt like a confession, like sin and forgiveness all wrapped up in one. Will could hardly believe he was saying them at all. "I don't want to anymore."

Hannibal leaned in and Will found himself, reaching up an arm to slide a hand back into Hannibal's wet hair, grasping it and holding him in place. And Hannibal let him.

"What is stopping you Will?" Hannibal asked in a low voice, pulled back enough now that Will could see the glossy quality to his eyes, how black and endless his pupils appeared.

Will took a breath and forced the words to come. "I don't want you to tell me I'm an outcome. I want you to tell me what burns against your ribs at the sight of me, what runs through your mind when we're close enough to share the same air. I want to tell me what's hidden it's way into all your carefully laid plans and brushed them all to the side. I want you to tell me how you ache, how you—"

Hannibal's mouth pressed over his, both hard and soft, all consuming the way nothing had ever been, everything Will hadn't let himself want. He tightened the hand in Hannibal's hair, pulling his head back again.

"Tell me," he demanded in someone else's voice, or maybe it was his own and he was only hearing it now for the first time. "Just say it Hannibal."

"Yes," Hannibal said softly, dampness gathering at the corners of his eyes, "I do Will, I love you."

And just like that the wire broke. 

"The word feels ineffectual and small next to the sum of my feelings for you, but it is the only one I have to give." Hannibal trailed his thumb along Will's bottom lip and tore a wet gasp from his chest. "My dear boy."

Will closed the distance between them, pressing against Hannibal in open mouthed desperation. All at once he felt how he ached all over, burning up, feeling like half of something that was just out of reach. He could feel where Hannibal was strained against his slacks and pressed himself against him. Unable to help himself Will pulled back just enough to look down and then a groan was falling out of him. It was close to obscene the way he looked pressed against Hannibal, the pull of his thin boxers leaving close to nothing hidden, like he was already laid bare against him.

Hannibal's hand curled against his jaw and titled his head back up for another kiss, his other hand curling around Will's hip and pulling him against him. Will arched his back off the wall, pulling Hannibal's bottom lip between his teeth as the hand not still clutching Hannibal's hair pulled away his damp shirt to run up the chilled skin of Hannibal's back. He sighed into his mouth, shivering beneath Will's hands. 

He'd done that. He'd made Hannibal tremble with need, the man who was close to stone he was so unaffected by the people around. Will had taken that from him. He couldn't hide here anymore, not when there was nothing left between them.

Will spread his fingers out, skin close to burning he felt so hot, itching all over, desperate for more, for everything, to climb away inside until he had a taste of every last bit. Warmth flooded beneath his nails, thick and hot until suddenly it was so much more than that, flesh splitting around his fingers in an awful wet sound. Will tried to pull away but he couldn't, tried to open the eyes he didn't remember closing only to find himself trapped in the endless dark.

“Hannibal,” Will gasped, but the moment the word left his lips he knew that it was wrong, it was true, but it was so so wrong. 

His arms were engulfed in heat then, wet and awful as it pulled him in. Suddenly his eyes were open and Will could see it, the black-horned shape taking up all of his vision, spreading out over everything. It burned everywhere it touched until Will couldn't feel anything at all but the heat, the inescapable feeling that he couldn't pull away, that there was no part of him left it hadn't touched. 

Will knew he needed to stop, the dark slithering down between his legs and slipping up into his open gasping mouth, but he couldn't move. The shape didn't feel like it was holding him at all anymore, Will was grasping desperately at it instead, all but wrapped around him, unable to remember how to pull away. He couldn't, not now, not when they were finally at the moment all of this had been leading up to, the moment he'd craved more than anything. He could see even now, blind in the dark.

He could see everything.

*

Will spent the rest of the next morning in a fog, moving without himself throughout his house, feeding his dogs with numb hands, walking out to his car on legs he couldn't feel before remembering he had nowhere to be. Still, he found himself driving off all the same. His house felt tainted for him now, almost laughable after everything that had truly happened between it's walls, but the feeling refused to leave. 

Clarity rapted against his skull in a constant thrum, unavoidable and bitter, completely and utterly unwanted. 

This was never meant to be about him. Will had just wanted to know, to have one small moment in his life that he could look at Hannibal and know he was seeing the whole of him, unblemished with skin neither of them needed between them. Will couldn't imagine what Hannibal would see looking back from his own eyes now, if there was any hope for him to keep this inside at all. Maybe Hannibal had seen it all so long ago, from that very first day of untrust, in that flash of eye contact Will had been desperate to avoid.

When Will had decided he'd wasted enough gas he turned back home, hardly seeing a thing when he pulled back into his driveway. Sighing he just let his head rest against the wheel for a moment, exhausted in a way he so rarely was, deeper than usual, inescapable even in the waters of his own mind. Rolling his eyes Will finally pushed himself out of the car, taking in his surroundings for what felt like the first time.

His shed was open. His locked shed with parts of Randal Tier’s body inside of it was open. 

Will couldn't claim to be surprised when the freezer door came down and a flash of red hair was waiting behind it, but he wished he could have been. Something inside of him ached for his heart to race when the gun was raised at his chest, for his palms to sweat, for adrenaline to course through him, but the feeling never came. Even when she was kicking in his arms, throwing all of her wait into freeing herself, into hurting him, Will felt no different. If anything he was calm, calmer than he was in most moments of his life.

The nerves didn't come until the screaming finally stopped, until he had to tell her about the plan. Because that was all this was about, all it had ever been about, all it ever could be about. Will was trying to stop Hannibal because Hannibal was a murder, a cannibal, a monster. Will was trying to stop Hannibal because he had turned Will into all of those things and more, and Will couldn't even find it in himself to hate him for it now.

Will was trying to stop Hannibal because it was the only choice that was left to him, the other tempting in a way that he refused to linger on, like it wasn't there behind his eyes each day, waiting for him to break.

“He's a monster,” Will told Freddie, the words hollow in their dishonesty, rich in the way only a deeply buried truth could be. 

He's a monster, Will thought. We're the same, we're just alike.

*

Hannibal was clearing their plates from the dinner he believed to have been Freddie and Will felt sick all over, happiness that twisted into bile in his gut. Disappointed in himself for how easy this all had been to slip into, in Hannibal for seemingly falling for it, in himself for wishing that there wasn't a lie to believe at all. 

“Will you be staying for a drink tonight Will?” Hannibal asked from the kitchen.

Will knew that he shouldn't but found himself agreeing anyway. Rising from his seat he walked out into the sitting room, taking a seat on the couch instead of his normal chair and not letting himself think about why. Hannibal sat down next to him and Will reached out for his offered glass, not looking over as he did. For a brief moment their fingers touched, condensation pressed between their skin before Will pulled his hand back. He took a long drink, relishing the burn down the back of his throat.

The entire night Will had been bracing himself for Hannibal's question, but it never came. In light of what Hannibal just believed had transpired between them, it probably didn't matter all that much to him anymore. Or maybe it did, and he still had no idea what Will was waiting for him to say. 

“Do you dream at night?” Will didn't know where the question had come from, but it was too late to pull the words back now. 

“Everyone dreams,” Hannibal replied after a pause. “Where have your dreams taken you now?”

Will leaned back with a sigh, wondering if there could ever be a day Hannibal would just answer a question. Finally Will turned his head to find Hannibal already looking at him, just like always. “You know all the places my dreams take me.”

Hannibal smiled. “I would never be so bold, there are corners of your mind I could never dream of reaching.”

To Will it already felt as if he'd reached all of them, touched every point inside of him, a trail of evidence that was waiting beneath his skin just for him. “Is that what you dream of then? Reaching them?” 

“I dream of you,” Hannibal said softly, the firelight dancing across the curves of his face, the tops of his cheekbones, the dip beneath his mouth. “Though probably not in the way you're imagining.”

“I wouldn't be so sure.” Will let out something like a laugh. “But that isn't what I want to know.”

Hannibal simply raised an eyebrow, taking a drink of his wine as he crossed his legs. 

Will didn't begin to know how to make the need in his chest take shape, what question could possibly convey a feeling he didn't have the words to describe. It felt both unavoidable and impossible for there to really be anything left for him to find. But he had to know. Will was so tired of walking alone in the dark. 

“I think you dream of the past,” Will began, voice hardly more than a whisper as he looked down as his hands too tight grip on his glass. “From long before any of us ever knew you. The kind of memories that never really leave you, even when you don't think of them for years.” Will looked up, meeting Hannibal's shining eyes. “That's probably one of the few differences between us, I can't remember the last time I dreamt of my childhood.”

“Our moments of clarity came at different times.”

Will could only look back at Hannibal for a moment, stunned. He expected a sidestep, a redirection, a counter, but never this. Hannibal wasn't denying anything. Will tried desperately not to let himself get lost in it, even as he already began to feel himself slip away. 

“I had a sister, Misha.” Hannibal looked down, his voice hardly there at all. 

“Had?” Will asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“She's dead.” Hannibal looked back up at him, something in his eyes pulling Will's chest tight. “Abigail reminded me so much of her.”

“Why did you kill her?” Will asked once he remembered how to speak, words completely at odds with his actions as he reached out a hand to lay over Hannibal's. 

“What happened to Abigail always had to happen, there was no other way.” 

This close to Hannibal it was impossible not to see the pained conviction in his eyes, to know that he truly believed what he was saying to be true. Will felt something inside of him begin to crack, slowly and all at once, like a rush of water in his lungs. 

“Yes there was.” Will looked at Hannibal for a moment more, unable to make himself pull away. He squeezed his hand then, warm and real beneath his own before Will found it in himself to pull away, forcing his eyes from Hannibal's and down to the floor before them. “But I know you can't see that.”

It was too late now anyway.

Grimacing Will lifted his glass back to his lips, draining the last of it before reaching out to set it in on the table. Hannibal set his glass down as well and Will couldn't help but to tense up for one small moment. 

He really should have sat in the chair. 

“Have you ever experienced a moment so transcendent that you couldn't help but break it apart, just to see what pieces of it would remain?” 

Will felt like he could hardly breathe when he turned his head to look at Hannibal, finding him closer than he was ready for, the intensity of his gaze almost more than he could bear. How could he begin to answer when that moment was here and now, the fragile truths growing between them that Will had built on top of a lie? 

“Every time I'm left unsatisfied, but still I persist.” It was Hannibal's hand that reached out then, skipping his hand all together and closing his over Will's thigh, just this side of his knee. “Maybe one day the pieces will find themselves again.”

Will wanted to scream out that they were, that he was coming together here and now right before his eyes, but the truth held the words back in his throat. Against all reason Will felt like the worst person in the room, the lair, the fraud, the mistake. It was a wonder Hannibal couldn't see it all playing out before him now. 

“I still dream of Abigail.” Hannibal's hand tightened along his leg for a moment, pulling down Will's eye to it, the curve of each knuckle, the inescapable knowledge of what that hand had done, what Will wanted it to do now more than anything. Will forced himself to blink and hold it, but even in the dark all he could see was Hannibal. “Sometimes you're there with us, watching from the edge of the stream.”

“I'm sorry,” Hannibal said in a wet voice, “I'm sorry I took that from you.”

“What haven't you taken from me?” 

Hannibal said nothing, seeming to look through him as he started to sit back, pulling his hand away. Will placed his hand over top of his again, holding it to him, unwilling to let him pull away. 

“You said I was undecided,” Hannibal finally said, “I fail to see it, the only one still undecided between us is you.”

“How is that?” Will asked, heat behind his words as his grip on Hannibal tightened. “I'm the one who you've slowly made sure has no one else but you, not Jack, not Alana, not Abigail. There's no one else.”

“I want the best for you.”

“And that's you?”

“Will—”

“How can you expect me to trust that when time after time you've set me up to fail? You've left me with nothing to hold onto but you, and you won't even try and reach back for me.”

Hannibal's hand flexed beneath his own. “Am I not reaching for you now?”

“You're touching me,” Will said softly, lifting his hand as he turned his face away, “They're not the same thing at all.”

Will felt Hannibal's hand linger before pulling away. “Anything you desire of me Will, surely you must know you only need ask it.”

And there it was, the festering root at the core of all of this. Hannibal would never say them, and Will would never ask for them. Sighing Will stood up, rubbing his hands along the tops of his thighs. His palms were sweating now, despite how desperately he wished that they weren't. 

It took everything he had not to say the question burning at the back of his throat. The memory that wasn't a memory at all of Hannibal pressing against his back was all he could think of, all he could ache for standing in the almost dark of the room, the silence between them now threatening to suffocate him. But he couldn't ask for it, not now. Not after everything. 

“I know,” Will said quietly, because that was all that was left for him to say. Knowing it was rude Will walked out of the room anyway, making it all the way to the front door before the weight of everything seemed to hit him.

He was supposed to be playing Hannibal, not dramatically storming off because Hannibal wouldn't…

Steps started down the hallway behind him, and Will braced himself for another conversation that ultimately went nowhere. 

“Will,” Hannibal said from behind him, and then nothing else. 

Will wasn't going to turn back, he wasn't going to look. He lifted his hand to the door handle, shaking ever so slightly. He could just leave. Hannibal wasn't holding him here, he wasn't even touching him at all. All he did was watch him from the dark, just like he always had. Will turned his hand, the click of the handle unnaturally loud, echoing off itself over and over against his skull until Will realized it wasn't an echo at all, but footsteps.

Hannibal was right behind him now, his breath fanning out over Will's neck. Not breathing at all Will started to pull open the door only to let out a rough sound when Hannibal closed a hand over his own, pushing the door closed as he pressed himself along Will's back. Will waited, not breathing at all but Hannibal didn't move, if anything he pressed himself even closer, the hand not over his own coming up to hold his hip, sliding forward to rest along his lower stomach. 

“Hannibal,” Will breathed out despite himself, half convinced he was back in his dream. 

Hannibal remained silent, the hand on Will's stomach moving down, pressing along the inside of his thigh and pulling Will back against him. Will's head fell back against Hannibal's shoulder, a bitten-off gasp falling out of him. He needed to pull away, needed to pull himself from Hannibal's arms and demand that he say something but the words got caught in his chest, slipping from his mind the moment they began to take shape, like blood pouring out from a wound that refused to heal.

“Ask me Will,” Hannibal said against his ear, “I'll give you anything you ask for.”

The words were like ice water down his back and roughly Will jerked free of Hannibal's arms, turning to face him with a glare. Hannibal had the gall to look shocked, though no one else would have been able to see it shining out from behind his eyes. 

“Did you think it would be that easy?”

“I've learned to accept that nothing between us will ever be easy.”

“So then why—” Will cut himself off, rubbing a hand across his face. It didn't matter, none of this did. Will didn't know why he bothered at all. Getting what he wanted from Hannibal was a fantasy at best. “Never mind. I'm tired, I'm going home.”

Hannibal just looked at him for a moment, eyes moving endlessly over his face, so obviously searching for the words that would make him say. It was almost funny, in the way something that isn't funny at all still pulls a laugh from deep inside you. 

“Can I expect you for dinner on friday?” Hannibal finally asked, tone of voice perfectly in place, like none of this bothered him at all. 

Will turned and opened the door. “Ask Alana,” he snapped, unable to care how petty he sounded anymore as he let the door slam shut behind him.

*

“Do we do friendly visits anymore?”

Alana looked anything but, arms crossed as she gave him her version of a glare. “We don't.”

Will shifted where he stood, fighting back a grimace at the way his shirt clung to him, damp with sweat. All he wanted to do was go take a shower, to have one moment by himself before he had to pull the mask into place. Will felt so many things when he looked at Alana now that they blurred together, twisted and tainted until he couldn't pick out a single one. All he knew was that he didn't have anywhere near the patience to have this conversation right now. Will leaned against the door frame, just looking at Alana, waiting. 

In only a few moments she broke eye contact, clearly uncomfortable. Will didn't want her to feel that way. Will knew it was exactly the way what he was doing would make her feel. 

“Convince me you didn't do it Will,” she finally said, her voice low and strained.

“Why should I?” Will asked, voice close to unrecognizable, “We both know you've already made up your mind.”

“And that doesn't bother you?” Alana snapped as she met his eye once more. “You fought so hard to convince everyone you weren't a murder before, and now you just don't care?”

“I fought to convince everyone Doctor Lecter was a murder.” Will watched Alana swallow, wondering whose satisfaction he was feeling crawl between his ribs. “No one believed me, just like no one will believe you now.”

“You shouldn't,” Alana started, shaking her head with something like disbelief on her face. “Whatever is going on between you and Hannibal, it's not good for you. It's not good for either of you.”

“Of course it's not, Hannibal isn't good for anyone.” Will felt himself begin to smile, pushing himself off the door frame as he took a step towards Alana, sick at himself for how much he was enjoying this, knowing he was only going to push even more. “Why not go to him with this? Or did you already know it would be pointless?”

“Hannibal and my relationship isn't any of your business.”

Will made a low sound and nothing more, knowing his silence would affect her more than any words he could say. Saying anything at all now felt impossible next to the memory of the last time he and Hannibal had been together. 

In the three days since neither of them had tried to reach out once. 

“He's the one you should be afraid of, not me.”

Alana was looking at him like she'd never seen him before. “You chose to continue therapy with Hannibal, you regularly go to his house for dinner, he calls you his friend Will. How can you do all of that and still stand there and act like he's a monster?”

“The same way you can stand there and ask me that, when I can see the doubt behind your eyes even now.”

“I don't doubt Hannibal.”

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“Because Hannibal has nothing to do with what happened to Freddie!” 

Will couldn't help himself anymore and laughed. He wasn't sure there had been a moment in his life less funny than this one. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Alana shook her head, disgust pulling over her features. “I don't know why I bothered coming over here.”

“You were looking for someone who doesn't exist anymore.” Will leaned in as he spoke, something burning against his ribs he couldn't begin to understand. “We both know why.”

Alana stepped back, something like fear behind her eyes now. Without a word she turned and left, looking back at him one last time before she got in her car and drove away. Will stood in the doorway for a moment more, watching the dust on the air before he turned to go back inside. 

Somehow he managed to hold the bile at the back of his throat until he made it to the bathroom. 

*

The strange standstill Will had been living in seemed to come to a stop all at once, like an exhale pushed out for too long until your lungs had no more air left to give, dots behind your eyes on legs that could barely hold you upright. Hannibal had been the first to cave and pick up the phone, but it seemed they had both silently agreed to act like nothing had changed, outside of the constant growing change always happening between them now. Will wasn't sure which of them he hated more for it. Will wasn't even sure he could bring himself to hate Hannibal at all anymore, somehow that one small thought more grotesque than any images his mind had concocted before.

He spoke to Jack with no idea if the words passing his lips were the truth. 

He spoke to Freddie and wished she was dead. 

He spoke to Hannibal and didn't have the faintest idea what he would say from one moment to the next. 

He tried to speak to Abigail in his dreams but each night his mouth tore itself apart, bleeding out all the words he ached to say as she looked on with unseeing eyes.

"Will?" 

Hannibal's soft voice pulled him from himself and Will looked up from his half eaten meal, taking in the way the low light danced across Hannibal's face, aching all over. They were sitting together in the breath before the storm, and he still had no idea what he would do, only knowing that nothing would ever be the same for either of them. They would never have a moment like this again. 

"Yes?" Will finally managed to force out, his voice rough. 

"You looked far away."

"It's hard not to be, with everything that's about to happen."

"Second thoughts?" Hannibal asked lightly, but Will could see the doubt creeping in behind his eyes. 

"No." Will shifted in his seat, leaning his elbow on the table as he turned to face Hannibal more fully. "Not in the way you're worried about anyway."

"Jack then?" Hannibal asked, taking a sip of his wine. The way he was watching him made Will sit up straighter. 

"Jack wants to see you," Will said softly, "It's the only way."

It wasn't the only way, far from it. Will didn't have to be sitting here right now, he didn't have to be doing any of this. Any day he could have woken up and just left, packed up his dogs and never seen any of these people again, never seen Hannibal again. 

Maybe this was the only way. 

"It doesn't have to be."

Will met Hannibal's eye again, taken aback. The way Hannibal was looking at him now made him feel stripped bare, like he was the one on the verge of losing everything. 

"We could just leave, pack up your dogs, leave a note for Alana." A sad sort of smile came over his face. "It would almost be polite."

Will waited for the but, for the condition, for the explanation that would make any of this begin to make sense, but it never came. Hannibal just watched him in silence, waiting.

"Would you really do that?" Will asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "Just leave it all behind with me?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

Will just kept looking at him, the emotion in his chest he refused to name growing more and more repulsive by the moment. He didn't even have to try and imagine it, it was easier than breathing to picture them together, in different countries with different names, each other their only constant. Just them and the world, and anything that they desired. Will hadn't known he could want something so badly.

"Where would we go?"

Something shifted on Hannibal's face then, a subtle moment of surprise. "Wherever we like, Europe most likely. There are so many places I would love to show you Will."

Love. Maybe this could be it. Maybe this could finally be the moment. Will could ask if it meant he would finally get to hear Hannibal say the words. He could do that much after everything he'd already done.

"When would we leave?" 

"Tomorrow," Hannibal said softly, with more emotion that Will was used to hearing in his voice, "I have everything ready for us."

"Hannibal," Will said, watching the man's subtle reaction to hearing him say his same pass his lips, "are you…"

Will reached out for his wine and found Hannibal's hand instead, wrapping around his wrist and holding him, thumb moving softly across the top of his knuckles. There were still faint bruises along his hands, bruises he never would have had if he'd never met Hannibal. Will would have still been so many things if he had never met Hannibal.

He wouldn't be himself at all.

Will opened his mouth again, willing the question past his lips but the words wouldn't come. His stomach was a twisted pile of nerves, throat dry, a headache slowly taking shape behind his eyes. This was it, it was his last possible chance to hear the words, and Will couldn't even ask one simple question. Some distant part of his mind was screaming that he could be wrong, that this moment would ruin everything if he let it, as if everything wasn't ruined already. 

"Am I what Will?"

Will pulled his eyes away from their hands and looked back at Hannibal, seeing everything he wanted to know written across his face. Will knew with an unshakable certainty that no one else would ever look at him that way, knew that there was no one else he would ever want to. "I didn't kill Freddie."

Will waited for a betrayal to come over Hannibal's face, for him to pull his hand away and for the dark to creep out over his skin, but it never came. Hannibal's eyes grew soft, a small smile pulling over his face. "Yes Will, I know."

"You knew? This whole time?"

"Not the whole time, no. You are the only one who can truly deceive me Will, you must be proud."

"I'm not," Will said quietly, slowly breaking in two down the middle. 

Hannibal knew and yet here they were. Hannibal knew and he was still reaching out for him all the same, ready to leave everything behind, just the two of them. It was almost as good as hearing him say the words, this one small action a greater showing of his feelings than any words Hannibal could say. 

"Does this mean you wish to leave?"

The yes was waiting at the back of his throat, but Will didn't let the word come. "Was this a test?"

"Everything in life is a test."

So it was. Hannibal would have most likely killed him if he hadn't said. The realization sent warmth across him that should have been out of place and awful, but it didn't feel anything close to it, it felt like coming home, like finding yourself in the dark after being lost for years, blind and alone. Will knew without room for debt that this was always where he would have ended up, who he would always be broken against time and time again. 

But not this time. Will had no intention of falling apart now.

"Yes," Will said softly, watching the emotion screaming out behind Hannibal's unmoving expression, "I want to leave with you."

Hannibal's lips parted but he didn't say a word, eyes moving endlessly over Will's face. It didn't matter. Will could hear everything Hannibal wouldn't allow himself to say, the look in his eye that screamed out his satisfaction. Will couldn't blame him, this was the moment he'd been waiting for, all his plans and deception leading them both to this moment, here and now, finally together with nothing between them. 

Will let himself smile back at Hannibal, knowing it wouldn't last. 

"I have a surprise for you," Hannibal said as he pushed himself up from the table. 

Will raised an eyebrow, watching as something like glee shone out from Hannibal's eyes. "I feel like I should be worried."

"If you would wait for me in the living room, I'll be back in a moment."

Will watched Hannibal turn and walk away, a calm settling over him that didn't feel calm at all. Without thinking about why Will picked up the knife from his plate and tucked it up his sleeve before walking into the other room, stopping to stand before the fireplace. Even without knowing what he was about to be shown Will knew it wasn't something he could prepare himself for. Will raked his mind for what it could be, what could possibly make Hannibal look at him the way he had before walking away, but there was nothing. Will stood watching the flames, dread tangled up in excitement pounding against his chest with each beat of his heart. 

Footsteps brought his endless circling thoughts to a stop and Will turned, the sight before him like something from a dream, like a veil lifting from his eyes he hadn't known to try and look past before now.

It was Abigail. 

Will took half a step back before he stopped himself, mind nothing but a screaming howl of wind, rage and love and longing slamming against his skull. 

"Will," Abigail said quietly, voice weak and full of pain. 

Will was closing the distance between them before he could think, wrapping his arms around Abigail and pulling her against him. It couldn't be real but it was impossible to deny, she was here, alive and breathing in his arms. Finding himself Will pulled back to look at her, taking in her wounded expression, the lump of scar tissue where her ear should have been. The love and longing left him, rage a pulsing living thing inside of him now. Taking a controlled breath Will stepped back fully, turning to look at Hannibal for the first time. 

"Do you see it now Will? Everything I've done was to bring us here, to this very moment."

It took everything Will had not to crumble right then, to break apart and let out the scream burning at the back of his throat. He'd never dreamed up this moment as possible, but it made so much sense Will almost wanted to laugh. Of course Abigail was still alive. Of course this was what Hannibal was working to bring them towards. Of course Hannibal had been lying, holding this back from him even as Will had broken apart before him again and again. 

Everything in life was a test, a test of worth, a test of faith, a test of conviction. 

"Are you okay?" Will asked as he looked back at Abigail, their eyes meeting and breaking him apart anew.

Abigail just nodded, shooting a panicked glance at Hannibal before looking down at the floor. 

"Go get your bags Abigail," Hannibal said softly, his voice warm. 

Will watched her walk away, eyes burning. It hadn't been enough, just a brief moment after so many months of pain but it was all they would ever have now. Will suspected he would never see her again. Turning his head Will saw Hannibal walking towards him, stopping right next to him with something close to euphoric in his eyes. Will couldn't remember a time he had ever seen Hannibal look more himself. 

"Will," Hannibal began when all Will didn't say a word, "I know this must be—"

"I love you."

Hannibal sucked in a rough breath, his eyes going wide and damp. He looked like the picture of surprise, like even after everything he'd done to bring them to this moment he'd never dreamed of this. Aching all over Will stepped towards him, close enough now for him to feel the heat off of Hannibal's body, to hear each rough breath he took. Will brought one hand up to Hannibal's shoulder, sliding it up to hold the back of his neck as the other reached out to hold his waist, the knife up his sleeve pressing against his wrist in a distant dull pain. 

"Will," Hannibal breathed out, his voice rough and for once holding nothing back. He bought up a hand, trembling ever so slightly as he cupped Will's face and leaned in. 

The first touch of their lips had Will gasping, soft for only a moment before his grip turned rough, pulling Hannibal flush against him. Hannibal's hand moved back into his hair and gripped as his mouth fell open, a sound unlike any Will had heard from him before falling out of him when Will bit at his bottom lip. Will stepped forward, knee pushed between Hannibal's legs as his tongue pressed inside. Hannibal just gave it to him, turning almost pliant beneath his hands as another soft sound fell out of him. Will only pulled back when his lungs were screaming for air and the moment he took in Hannibal's eyes he was leaning back in, the want there looking back at him taking away any choice he had.

Hannibal moved with him, breathing into him as he let Will take him apart. He didn't push, didn't move Will or pull him to him, he just let Will press against him, holding onto him like Will was the only thing keeping him standing. Will felt dizzy with it, desire clouding over his thoughts until the only thing that was left was yes and more and his. Will tightened his hand on Hannibal's side, feelings the knife's edge cut into the skin on the outside of his wrist.

Will pulled back and forced himself to stay there, watching Hannibal in silence, giving him this one last chance against all reason. If Hannibal said the words now Will knew he would forgive him, could already feel the anger inside of him softening against the thought of it alone. There was no reason for Hannibal not to say them now, nothing left holding him back, nothing left to keep them apart. 

But Hannibal didn't say a word, he just looked down at Will with undeniable pleasure in his eyes, like everything had gone exactly as he'd foreseen. He hadn't given up a thing to get here. 

Leaning up and in Will claimed Hannibal's mouth in another searing kiss as he dropped his hand from his waist, the knife sliding down into his waiting palm. Will let himself give into the feeling inside of him and kissed Hannibal the way he had been aching to this whole time, soft and tender, cherishing each shift of Hannibal's lips against his own as he pressed the knife into him all at once, taking Hannibal's gasp of pain into his mouth and swallowing it down. Will pulled the knife across his stomach as Hannibal turned to stone beneath his hands, the hand in his hair turning into a painful grip, not pulling or pushing him away. 

Will pulled the knife out and stepped back, Hannibal's hand falling away from him. They weren't touching at all now and Hannibal took a stumbling step back, falling against the wall as his hand came up to clutch at the gaping wound along his stomach, blood so dark it almost looked back pouring out onto his hands. Will stood motionless as he watched Hannibal's legs give out and slide down along the wall, feeling nothing and everything. 

"Have I surprised you?" Will asked quietly just as his hands began to tremble at his sides. "Was this an outcome you had planned for?"

Hannibal coughed roughly, face twitching against the pain despite his obvious efforts to stop it. 

"It's okay, I didn't plan for this either." Will stepped forward and kneel down, blood spreading out around his shoes, close enough to feel Hannibal's labored breath along his face. "But I suppose one of us was always going to end up like this, bleeding out before the other."

"Do you think this is the end?" Hannibal pushed out, his voice weak and brittle, tears burning at the corners of his eyes, "This isn't the end Will."

"I know it's not." Will reached out and realized he still had the knife in his hand and tossed it behind him out of both of their reach. "There is no ending for us."

Hannibal jerked roughly, opening his mouth only for more blood to come out. He'd never looked more human to Will than he did right now. Will had never felt more human than he did right now. "Will," Hannibal managed to push out only to start coughing, mouth stained in red. 

Will wondered if he liked the taste. 

"Even still, even after keeping all of this from me, I still would have left with you, but you couldn't let that happen. You couldn't just tell me the truth."

"Which truth is that?" Hannibal asked, voice hardly there at all. His skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat now, the color draining away from his skin. 

"The only one that matters." 

Hannibal gave him something resembling a smile. "You already know."

"Do I?" Will asked quietly, watching Hannibal struggle to stay here in this moment, to not let the blood loss take him away. "What do you think I know Hannibal?"

"I let you see me, you've seen more of me than anyone."

Will reached out and held the side of Hannibals face, blood smearing along his fingers. Hannibal's mouth parted on a rough breath and Will let his thumb trail along his bloody bottom lip before pulling his hand away all together. Will stood, looking down at Hannibal's blood around his feet, dripping down off of his hand, somehow more and less than he was expecting. Some distant point inside of him hadn't expected Hannibal to bleed at all. 

Even after everything, he was still only a human. Hannibal was just a man. 

Will met Hannibal's eyes one last time, knowing it wouldn't be the last, knowing that this was the end all the same. "I do see you. I'll always see you, even if this is the last time you let me." 

The words he truly wanted to say were waiting at the back of his throat but his pride choked him. There was only so much of himself he was willing to give away, even now, even with Hannibal looking up at him that way. Will turned and started to walk away, each step he took a wet blood soaked smack against the floor. 

"Will," Hannibal called out just as he reached the doorframe, pulling him to a stop despite himself. 

"I know," Will said without turning. "Don't bother saying it now." 

Will did turn then, unable to deny himself one last look. Hannibal looked good like this, he looked honest. Will knew whenever he thought of him now it would be like this, red covered in red, eyes screaming out in something like pride, something like desperation. Will smiled and turned away, taking one of Hannibal's jackets before walking outside.

**Author's Note:**

> love comments as much as these two love stabbing each other but please be nicer to me than they are, i cry like franklin


End file.
